


Look No Further

by amidtheflowers



Series: Darcyland April Fools Challenge [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: April Fools Fic, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Smut, invisible smut, slight crack, yes you read that correctly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-26 19:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: Darcy doesn't know if Asgard specializes in floating heads in random forests, but this one is kind of sweet.





	1. Where In The World Is James Buchanan Barnes?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> So, yeah. This is late. Super late. But guys, it had to be this way. Life got in the way, my muse took a vacation, and I was left scrambling in the aftermath. But look--it's done! Part 9 and 10 of the DLAF Smut challenge: **Mistaken Identity + Must Include A Cape**. 
> 
> There are two other culprits responsible for key parts of this fic, the lovelies Leftennant and Latessitrice. You two know what you've done. :P
> 
> Enjoy! xx

 

It’s not that Darcy hasn’t seen some weird things.

Norse god falling from the sky? Tased it. Flame-y metal murderbot wiping out half of Puente Antiguo? Survived it. Alien with wicked braids threatening humanity? Punched it. It’s quite a belt Darcy hefts, and that doesn’t even include the last three years.

But there has to be a limit. There has to be a point when even the most vastly traveled intergalactic lifeform could take one look at something and go, _well that’s new._

Darcy considers this when she sees the shape of a floating head between two rows of trees down a forest path, staring at it as it emits a soft sigh.

“Uh…”

The head, which up until now Darcy was only seeing the back of, suddenly turns. The long strands of brown hair now part to reveal a face—a shapely, frowning face with a sharp jaw, blue eyes, and a look of long-suffering Darcy hasn’t seen since she told her parents she’s leaving earth and launching herself into space to the realm of the gods.

The floating head’s lips part to yet another soft sigh. “Yeah. This is happening. Sorry, you can just…keep walking. I’m good.”

“Um…?” Darcy is speechless. The poor head makes a face as if to shrug—if he still had shoulders. “So is this an off thing, or are you usually without torso and other—parts?”

“Well I’m missing a left arm,” the head replies.

“Of course you are.” Darcy narrows her eyes at the man-head. A very pretty man-head, Darcy might add. This makes her doubly suspicious. Her eyes drift warily to the wood around them, listening keenly to the chirps and soft sounds around them; forest sounds. When she looks at the head again, eyes squinting shrewdly, the man-head raises his eyebrows and stares at Darcy with equal hesitance.

Darcy takes a step forward. The head jerks, as if trying to step back, but in the end he stays relatively in the same place. A fact that irks him, from the way his brows are furrowing.

His jaw tenses, watchful as Darcy stops a foot before him. Darcy tilts her head. “So, are you allowed to talk? Or are you meant to be like, misleading?”

The man-head stares at her, as if _she’s_ the strange one with the floating head. “Am I supposed to understand that?”

Darcy frowns. “Guess not. Now I only have old gameshows to go off of here, so...” and without preamble, Darcy flicks his forehead.

Predictably the head flinches, and even more predictably he is angry. “The hell was that?”

“No? Is there something underneath?” Darcy crouches a bit to get a look under the head where part of a neck is floating, and jams her head face-first into a load of _something._

Something warm, and fleshy, and, “Ohmygod this is a crotch.” Darcy shoots up and staggers back in horror as the floaty head crumples forward, letting out a hiss of pain as if he too is crouching. “Fuck me. There’s a body under there.”

“Couldn’t just wait to let me tell you that, doll?” the head says tightly, a pinched look on his face.

“…I just faceplanted into your balls, didn’t I.”

“Feels like it.”

“Shit. I am _so_ sorry. I thought you were a test. Goddamn Fandral suggested I get familiar with the local parts of Asgard if I’m going to be living here for a few weeks, and then Sif sauntered by mentioning quests, and then _Thor_ went on and on about quests _he’d_ won, and I figured all that was a way to get me to go on a stupid quest like some kind of college level hazing. Which, I can see now you’re not a floating head quest, but a people.”

The head takes in all this information with his eyebrows steadily rising higher until his forehead scrunches. By the end of it he says dryly, “It’s an easy mistake to make. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“And definitely not be too hard on an invisible crotch. Can I get you some ice or something?”

“You got ice in that purse?” The floaty head flickers his eyes at the purse slung over Darcy’s shoulder.

“Nah, but I thought I’d offer. Seemed polite after putting you through some considerable pain. I have a stick of gum, though. You want?”

“I’ll pass.”

Darcy nods amiably, then glances down. “So, invisible?” The head nods, which is an odd sight as it only bobs a little bit mid-air. Darcy purses her lips, then jabs at the air with her forefinger.

The head lets out another grunt and Darcy feels warm fingers wrap around her wrist, yanking her hand away. A very strange sensation, of course, when there is no visible hand in sight that’s clutching her.

“Could you stop doing that?”

“Sorry! So sorry, I just wanted to make sure. Didn’t mean any harm,” Darcy says quickly. “But for real, what’s with the,” Darcy gestures to the rest of him that can’t be seen. “You piss off a woodland squirrel or something and they cursed you?”

“They can do that?”

“I’m going to say a solid probably not. But I just got here yesterday, and you’re still holding my wrist by the way.”

The pressure on her wrist immediately releases, and the man-head makes a show of looking embarrassed, grunting a soft ‘sorry’ and tucking his hair behind his ear.

“So is that a yes or no to cursed by Asgardian woodland creatures?”

“No,” the head says, rolling his eyes. “You really can go. I’ll sort myself out.”

“How long have you been trying to do that, by the way?” Darcy asks. The man-head blinks, glaring in a way that speaks volumes of the enormity of time he’s been here. “Riiiight. Well, you’re doing super. Keep up the good work.”

Darcy makes it four steps before she hears a sigh and a reluctant, “I’m stuck.”

Darcy turns her head and ticks up a brow at him. Mr. Floaty (man-head is starting to sound too phallic in her mind) does that thing again where it looks like he’s just shrugged.

“Stuck how?” Darcy walks back towards him.

Floaty glances down, and Darcy follows his line of sight. There’s a puddle there, murky and grey. “Walked into this by accident. Now I can’t get out of it.”

“But you can move around, can’t you?” Darcy frowns.

“Yeah, but not much help if I want to leave the damn thing.”

“Does this have to do with you being bodily invisible?”

“One problem at a time, doll,” he smirks and wow, what a great smirk, if Darcy may say so herself. The pouty lips curl right up with that kind of smile. He seems to think so too, looking at Darcy with a knowing look that Darcy finds herself mirroring, a coy little smile quirking her lips.

“Well then, let’s have a look,” Darcy answers cheerfully, and crouches down to examine the puddle. “It’s doing a weird swirly thing in the middle… _OH!_ ” Darcy grins up at him as he frowns at her. “I totally know what this is. My friend Jane told me about getting stuck in one of these puddles of doom on her last trip to Asgard.”

“How did she get out of it?”

Wordlessly, Darcy opens her purse and digs through it. She can feel Floaty’s confusion but he continues to watch without pressing further. “Aha!” Darcy holds up a bottle with triumph.

He blinks. “That’s water.”

“It is. See what else it can do.” Darcy uncaps the bottle and pours the water into the swirling, murky puddle. It happens immediately; the swirling stops and the puddle becomes clear. She hears a soft intake of breath, and suddenly the floaty head is moving away from the puddle and glancing down at his invisible legs.

“Bet that’ll be the last time you condescend water,” Darcy says, capping the bottle again before stuffing it in her purse.

A slow grin spreads on his face and he parts his lips to say something—when suddenly his head disappears.

“Mr. Floaty!” Darcy cries, stretching out her arms so she might graze against him. But she flails needlessly, unable to feel or find him.

“I prefer Bucky,” Darcy hears behind her. She whirls around to a metal hand waving in front of her.

Darcy blinks at the metal hand before shaking it. “Darcy,” she tells him. “Dude, you really _are_ missing a left arm.”

**-:-**

“This is all because of a _cape?_ ” Darcy says incredulously as they sit on a garden bench together. He’s more or less fully visible right now, except for a left leg and a right shin.

“’Fraid so,” Bucky replies, idly picking a thread on his shirt. “Thor was walking me through the trophy room when it broke free from a glass case and launched itself at me.”

“Wow. And it’s doing this to you even though you’re not even wearing it?”

Bucky nods, shrugging. “They’re working on some kind of antidote in the citadel. Figured I’d take a walk in the meantime, clear my head.”

“Fair enough,” Darcy says. “What brings you to Asgard anyway?”

Bucky hesitates, just a fraction of a second. His eyes flicker over her, and whatever he sees must do something for him because he leans back against the bench languidly. “Vacation.”

Darcy whistles lowly. “Man, that blows. Vacation from hell, and on day one too.”

“I’m just that lucky. You?”

It’s Darcy’s turn to sigh. “Call it a midlife crisis.”

Bucky ticks up a brow. “Aren’t you a bit too young for midlife anything?”

“You’re never too young for a crisis,” Darcy says darkly. “Basically I’m stuck on two roads. I did my bachelor’s in political science. I also worked for years researching astrophysics with Jane—Shield tell you about that whole thing with Jane and Thor?”

“Steve Rogers ain’t Shield,” Bucky tells her. He gives in when Darcy continues to stare. “…Yeah, I know about it.”

“Right, so there I was, doing that astrophysics stuff for a few years. And I didn’t want to do that anymore, but then that left me with my degree, which I also didn’t feel like pursuing any further.” Darcy shrugs again, glancing down at her lap. “So when Jane told me she was going to Asgard for a few weeks, I asked Thor if I could hitch a ride. Get some perspective.”

“Had any luck yet?”

Darcy smirks. “Well, my first experience so far was walking down a forest and finding a floating head, so jury is still out on how important that was to my career crisis.”

“Doll, I am so important. You don’t even know.”

“I totally don’t. You should tell me stuff.”

Bucky frowns. “You don’t know already?”

“Wow, full of it much?”

Bucky’s eyes widen, and Darcy can practically see the embarrassment chip away a year of his life. “I didn’t mean…didn’t mean it like that, like you ought to know who I am, I just—just assumed, given…” he trails when he sees Darcy bite her lip, trying her darnedest to keep a smile from breaking free. “Shoulda fuckin’ known.”

“You should see how pale you got, and that’s not the flickering invisibility talking at all,” Darcy holds back a grin. “And, like…yeah, I know stuff about you. Whatever showed up on the news. But the news isn’t who you are, and I’d like to know who you are. At least have one good thing about this godforsaken trip we’ve taken on this realm, right?”

Maybe Darcy imagines it, but she thinks something soft goes in Bucky’s eyes in that moment. And stays soft whenever he looks at her for the months to come, just for her.

“You got it.”

“And don’t skimp on the details! Tell me from the beginning,” Darcy says earnestly, settling herself comfortably on the garden bench.

Snorting, Bucky nods. “Alright, sweetheart. It all started March 10, 1917, and my ma had an especially spicy dinner…”

**-:-**

There were whispers across the citadel of Asgard of the invisible man with the metal arm, and the Midgardian woman who often accompanied him.

It was hard to find the metal-armed man most days, given his affliction. But one only had to spot the woman, the _Darcy,_ to pick out the visible parts of the other. Most peculiarly, his lack of true visibility did not seem to perturb the Midgardian woman in the very least—just the opposite. They could be found laughing uproariously whilst strolling the palace gardens, whispering conspiratorially during the dinners. Food would mysteriously flick towards the Allfather’s plate, with the lady Darcy coughing loudly in her wine cup.

Weeks passed this way, with the two Midgardians finding companionship in the other. A palace servant nearly tripped when she walked past a corridor where the two were, standing in the dim lamplight.

Darcy is leaning against the wall, staring up at seemingly nothing. But the servant can make out a pair of thick leather boots and long, calloused fingers gently threading with one of Darcy’s. She lifts her hand and trails her fingers in the air. _Along his cheek_ , the servant thinks, heart filling with love.

“It won’t be easy,” Bucky says quietly.

“Easy is for the unmotivated,” Darcy replies, red lips twisting up in a smile. “And right now I am very, very motivated.”

“Darce…”

“Please,” Darcy whispers, eyes darting along an unseen face. “Bucky…”

Her eyes flutter shut and for a brief moment, Bucky’s body flickers to life. He stands there in the orange lamplight, arms wrapping around Darcy’s waist, mouth descending softly onto hers. It is achingly sweet, this Midgardian kiss. And just as quickly as it came, the visibility vanishes—but Darcy does not notice, tilting her head and kissing Bucky deeply.

The servant scuttles away, regretful for intruding on such a private moment.

**-:-**

“Hey Bucky?”

“Mm?”

“Have you noticed sometimes you go between visible and invisible depending on, um…the situation?”

The fingers sweeping through her hair do not stop, but Bucky gives Darcy a puzzled frown. “What do you mean?”

“Like…” Darcy gestures at him where he sits next to her on the sofa. “How when you’re around me, nine times of out ten most of your body is visible, but when you’re around other people or at the dinners, you’re not?”

Bucky stares at her and his body starts to flicker, glitching like grain on an old film. “See?” Darcy points out. “What I said made you uncomfortable, and you’re starting to fade out.”

“You saying I do it on purpose?”

“Not on purpose. But…maybe, subconsciously, you don’t really want to be seen. Not even here on Asgard.”

Bucky says nothing. His hand continues to stroke through her hair in soft, soothing sweeps.

“Maybe, subconsciously…it’s hard finding a reason to want to be seen all the time,” Bucky replies quietly.

Darcy twists around to look at him from where she leans against Bucky’s chest. “Guess it all depends on who’s looking.”

**-:-**

It’s not the first time Bucky has slept in the same bed as Darcy, but none have ever been quite like this.

It’s warm under the covers. He’s tangled behind her; face pressed against her neck, arm thrown over her with his hand slipped under her shirt. Darcy can feel every exhale on her skin, feels every brush of his fingertips when they twitch on the soft skin of her belly. She inhales deeply as she rouses from the last vestiges of sleep, and Bucky mirrors her with a long sigh of his own. She feels him nuzzle deeper against her, his grip tightening around her body.

Darcy moves the shirt a bit so she can place her hand atop his. She smiles at the intricate plates of his metal fingers, shifting silently at her touch. She traces up his wrist and finds a whole length of visible arm.

Darcy blinks. Bucky’s arm isn’t flickering at all. It is solid color, more solid than she’s ever seen the last three months.

Darcy shifts in the bed to face him, and Bucky burrows his head into her chest. Vivid brown hair, soft, angular face. Darcy brushes the hair back from his face and whispers, “Bucky.”

Bucky mumbles something, pulling her tighter against him and his fingers finding the skin under the back of her shirt and stroking it absently. Darcy’s smile widens. “Goober. Wake up.”

“Mmmfsleep,” Bucky grumbles, eyes still firmly closed.

“Half of that made sense. Wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up,” Darcy jabs Bucky’s shoulder each time for emphasis. Without opening his eyes he snatches her wrist and uses it as leverage to roll them over and pull Darcy on top of him.

“Pretty girls shouldn’t be so loud in the morning,” Bucky finally says, mumbling it into her neck.

“You like when I’m loud,” Darcy replies.

“Mmmm, I really do. Maybe we should work on that.” Bucky suddenly moves them again so he’s on top of her, a sleepy smirk spreading on his mouth. He leans down for a kiss that has Darcy squirming at the end of it. She gasps against Bucky’s mouth when his hand finds the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and has to force herself to remember there was a reason she woke him up.

“How’re you feeling, Bucky?”

Bucky smiles down at her, licking his lips. “Like a fuckin’ champ, dollface. You?”

“So good. Even better with a full view, if I may say so myself.”

She watches her words register in his mind slowly. Bucky glances down at himself and his jaw drops. Quickly he moves off of her to sit up, staring at himself in disbelief.

Bucky glances at her. “I’m not…not even a little.”

“Nope. Not a flicker in sight.”

Bucky is silent for a long moment, but it not too long before he looks at Darcy again. This time, he’s wearing a tiny smile. “Would you look at that.” He snorts to himself, and Darcy tilts her head.

“What is it?”

Shaking his head, Bucky looks at Darcy with nothing short of contentment in his eyes. “Guess I found a reason to want to be seen. And she’s sitting right next to me.”

Darcy doesn’t know what to say so she doesn’t, throwing her arms around him instead and sending them both tumbling back against the mattress. Bucky’s holding her tightly and Darcy plants and soft kiss on his lips before peering down at him.

“This was all you, Bucky. All you,” Darcy says quietly.

“And you’re everything,” Bucky says simply. “Guess I should tell Thor we don’t need that antidote anymore, huh?”

“You should. But I was told we should work on how loud I get for you first. You up for that?”

“Sweetheart, you read my goddamn mind.”

 


	2. The Second Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy tries her hand at the Cape of Invisibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! If you're wondering what's going on, here it is. This fic was meant to be a oneshot, but then Leftennant was all "okay BUT INVISIBLE SMUT BUT WITH DARCY", and now it's a chapter I have written. It's truly a brilliantly fun idea, so thank you Lefty for prompting this one!
> 
> This chapter is pure, shameless smut.
> 
> Enjoy! xx

 

“I can’t believe we’re leaving tomorrow,” Darcy watches Bucky roll up another shirt and stuff it inside his duffel bag. “How has it been almost four months?”

“Probably the good company you’ve been keeping,” Bucky smirks, zipping up the bag.

“This is true. The company is fantastic,” Darcy sighs as she leans back, palms flat on the bed behind her and holding herself upright. A contented smile lifts the corner of her lips. “There’s so much you can do with good company. Fun at night. Fun in the morning. And midday. Several times. Mmm, the company.”

Bucky grins as he saunters towards the bed, settling down next to Darcy and bumping her shoulder with his. “Company that good, huh?”

“You know it’s good.”

“Feeling is mutual, doll,” Bucky murmurs before closing the gap between them and kissing her softly.

When they part, Darcy licks her lips and sighs again. “You know, apart from the invisible thing, our Asgard experience was far more vanilla than I thought it would be. Not a single bilgesnipe, Bucky. We were promised a bilgesnipe.”

“When were we ever promised that _?_ ”

“When Thor gave his blessings and said if you ever hurt me he’s setting a bilgesnipe on you, remember?”

“I haven’t hurt you, Darce, nor will I ever. And did you see pictures of those things? I’m saying nightmares, Darcy. For days. I had to see the court physician for a sleeping draft.”

“But think how _fun_ a bilgesnipe would be,” Darcy jostles on the bed to face Bucky fully. “Imagine one charging at you. It’s like the world’s worst Russian roulette.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Your point?”

“We don’t need that kind of exciting. The invisible thing was enough,” Bucky shakes his head.

Darcy tilts her head in thought before a slow smile spreads on her face. “Yeah, that was kinda really fun at the end.”

At Bucky’s questioning look, Darcy elaborates. “You know. The first night we spent together. And you were still partially invisible.” Darcy shrugs. “It was kind of hot.”

“ _That_ was hot?” Bucky’s expression becomes dubious.

“Uhh, yeah. It was…” a pretty blush starts spreading across Darcy’s cheeks, and Bucky is absolutely incredulous. Darcy clears her throat loudly. “It was something.”

“Something, huh?” Bucky drawls, ducking his head to force their eyes to meet. “Now I’m curious. What about me being invisible did it for you?”

“Would you look at the time, we’re going to be late for the final dinner!” Darcy jumps up from the bed and makes a beeline for the door. Bucky watches her go, chuckling to himself. There is no way he’s letting this go now.

**-:-**

Bucky is most definitely going to let this go now.

During the entire dinner, Darcy behaved strangely. Not meeting his eyes, keeping her words polite and short, startling if he got too close. It sent a painful twist to his heart, and Bucky made sure to reduce his presence around Darcy as much he could for the rest of the evening.

Before they’d even finished eating, Darcy excused herself from the table claiming she needed to use the bathroom. The dinner had finished and Darcy had not returned, so Bucky made his way back to an empty room.

This is where he is now. Sitting on the bed— _their_ bed, for the last two weeks—and wracking his brain for anything he could have done to hurt Darcy. Bucky didn’t miss the silent glares Thor sent his way when Darcy left for the bathroom. And now, Bucky thinks miserably, Darcy’s wish of a bilgesnipe will be a reality.

The only thing he can recall is the snipe about Darcy’s enjoyment of Bucky being invisible when they first had sex. It was just the one time when they did it that way, and the morning after Bucky was completely visible again. But Darcy hadn’t seemed offended when he teased her about it. Surely that can’t be it? Bucky sighs miserably and collapses on the bed, covering his eyes with his arm.

He hears the door quietly open and close with a soft _click_. Relief fills him, and Bucky lifts his arm to see Darcy.

Bucky’s jaw drops.

“Darcy— _what??_ ”

“You like?” Darcy grips the end of the inky blue cape and swishes it around herself, grinning at him.

Bucky looks at her seriously. “Darcy. You know what that thing does. Why the hell would you wear it?”

Darcy bites her lip. “You asked me what about you being invisible did it for me.” Darcy swirled the cape again. “I thought a hands-on explanation would be best.”

When Bucky continues to stare, Darcy sighs. “There’s an antidote now, remember? I’ll drink it in the morning. Plus, since I actually figured out how the invisibility works, I’ll have more control over it and probably won’t need the antidote anyway. Just…let me? Please?” A flicker of doubt flashes across her eyes and Darcy looks away. “Unless you’re not up for it. I’ll scrap this whole idea and put this cape back, no problem. Whatever you want, Bucky. We don’t have to do this.”

Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise.

“No, we don’t…we can do it. I…I don’t mind.”

Darcy tentatively meets his eyes again. “Yeah?”

Bucky shrugs, smiling a little. “Just glad I don’t have to fight a bilgesnipe now, doll. I was so sure you were upset and Thor was burning a hole in my forehead.”

“I wasn’t upset,” Darcy replies, tongue poking out to lick the corner of her mouth coyly. “But I admire you accepting your fate to an Asgardian beast.” Slowly, Darcy starts undoing the strings holding the cape closed at her neck. Bucky’s mouth goes dry when he sees the fabric part, and a very naked Darcy stands underneath.

Bucky has never undressed so quickly in his life. He’s shucking off his socks when Darcy starts towards him. He sees the first flicker across her body and Darcy pauses. She lifts her hand level to her eyes and watches with fascination as it starts to disappear. “Shiiit. This is cool. I wonder if…” Darcy closes her eyes in concentration, and her entire body vanishes.

Bucky blinks. “Uh…Darce?”

Like a light switching on, Darcy reappears fully intact. She grins at him. “That was easier than I thought.”

Bucky laughs a little shakily. “Well, you’re as smart as they get, doll.”

“Right? I’m awesome. Now that that’s out of the way…”

Bucky shifts towards the back of the bed as Darcy crawls towards him. She flashes him a grin and he grins back, and just like that the solid feeling he always feels around her slides right back into place, a sense of assurance filling his heart. He pulls her into a kiss, soft and tender at first before it transforms into something longer, rougher, her tongue rolling against his and making him groan.

Darcy pulls back and pushes Bucky’s chest so he falls against the bed. He huffs, smiling as Darcy winks at him.

Then she’s gone.

For a few seconds there’s nothing. Then Bucky’s eyes widen when he feels warm fingers wrap around his cock and pump up once. “Jesus,” Bucky groans, and Darcy flickers before him. She is definitely more controlled with the invisibility than Bucky had been, not that he ever tried. She lets her hand appear first, then her arm, then the rest of her returns with a ruby smile before Darcy releases him.

“Thoughts?” Darcy asks as she leans over Bucky to kiss his neck, his chest…Darcy has to pause and look up at him for his jaw to start working again.

“Good. It’s…interesting.”

“Just interesting? Hm.”

“No, that’s not…” But she’s already gone, and Bucky feels empty when her body moves off of him. Bucky blinks, fruitlessly straining to see a glimpse of Darcy.

Bucky gasps when he feels her tongue licks up a stripe along his cock. He exhales shakily as he takes in the empty room and the pleasure thrumming in him. Darcy grips him suddenly and wraps her lips around his head, sending him arching against the bed.

“Oh my _god_ …” Bucky moans loudly when Darcy swirls her tongue over him, feeling her hand grip his base as she takes him more and more into her mouth. “Oh my god.” His eyes roll back and he feels Darcy hum in amusement. His hand reaches down to tangle his fingers where he knows her hair is, feeling some of it spill over his thighs and hips. His other hand reaches behind him to grip the pillow, eyes closing in pleasure.

Now he gets it. He absolutely gets it. Because this, he’d done this for her—gone down on Darcy, pushed back her thighs like a good honest man and moved his tongue and lips over her until she was coming on his mouth and crying out. And he’d been completely invisible at the time. His attention had been entirely focused on Darcy, only Darcy.

Darcy seems to have similar plans. Eventually she lets herself become visible and the sight itself—her lips wet, hand moving over him, hair spilling over one side—just the sight nearly makes him come right there. As it is, Darcy senses this and releases him with a pop.

“Thoughts so far?” Darcy asks with a playful grin.

“Thoughts? We put the cape in my duffel; it’s coming back with us.”

Darcy laughs softly and shifts closer over Bucky. He drags her mouth down to his, and when she firmly grips him and sinks down, nothing else really matters.

Bucky licks his thumb and flicks it over Darcy’s clit as she grinds on top of him. Her hands scramble a little over his abdomen as she gasps, and it takes a few more flicks and several thrusts up into her for Darcy to cry out, clenching around him as her body flickers in and out of sight. He thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful, and a few of thrusts later he’s coming hard inside her.

Bucky slowly sits up and strokes back Darcy’s hair, kissing her gently as she comes down. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, lips moving languidly with a soft sigh of contentment.

They’re smiling when they break apart. Bucky is especially giddy, and Darcy can’t stop giggling over the fact.

“You are so fucked out,” Darcy says fondly, pushing his hair away from his eyes, “I love it. We are so stealing the cape.”

“So long as it comes with the pretty girl wearing it,” Bucky replies.

“It does. So invisible—yeah?”

“Fuck, sweetheart. Never in my goddamn life did I think that was something I’d be into, but I am _into_ it.”

“Same. I thought it would be weird too, that first time we slept together…but holy shit, nope. Total turn-on.”

“Mm,” Bucky nuzzles her neck, hands slipping down her waist to her hips. “Makes you wonder what else we’ll like.”

“Guess we’ll just have to try and find out, huh?”

Bucky grins against Darcy’s throat, then kisses his way up her neck before planting a firm kiss on her lips. “Guess so, doll. Maybe Thor has some other trophies we’ll like…”

Darcy giggles again when Bucky rolls them over, turning into a breathy moan as he kisses down her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic may or may not be a direct prequel to the events of [A Horn of Errors](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10547810). In case the ending context wasn't clear enough ;)


End file.
